


The Club

by imunbreakabledude



Category: Killing Eve (TV 2018)
Genre: F/F, One Shot, soft, takes contained within are not absolute only soft vibes, talking about feelings in a way very uncharacteristic of canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-02
Updated: 2020-09-02
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:26:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26257120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imunbreakabledude/pseuds/imunbreakabledude
Summary: “Eve, are you homophobic?”or, Ladies' Night.
Relationships: Eve Polastri/Villanelle | Oksana Astankova
Comments: 53
Kudos: 205
Collections: Killing Eve Week 2020





	The Club

**Author's Note:**

> Just a lil idea I had for Killing Eve Week, the "Soft" prompt. Hope it comes off that way.

“I’m bored,” Villanelle whines. “What can we do for fun in this backwards country?” She pulls out her laptop and begins browsing the internet.

“Watch it,” Eve cautions.

“Go buy guns. Drive a scooter through a shopping mall…”

“I’m from here!”

Villanelle flops down on the couch. They’ve been in the United States for a week now, laying low after crossing the border to make sure no one from the Twelve was tailing them. Their AirBnB isn’t terribly spacious, and after twenty-four hours of staying cooped up inside together, it feels smaller than ever.

Eve stands in the kitchenette, chopping some vegetables to make a sad salad. It’d be easier to order food, of course, but she wanted something to do with her hands. “If you want to do it right, we should sit on the couch all night, eat too much food, and watch an Adam Sandler movie. Can’t get more American than that.”

Villanelle clicks on something, and her face lights up. “Never mind. I know what we are doing tonight.”

“What?”

“We are going dancing. At the club.”

“Dancing?” Eve asks, pausing her vegetable prep to throw a skeptical glance.

“This club, Allegro, it’s one of the must-see destinations here in Sacramento, according to TripAdvisor. And it’s perfect, tonight they’re having Ladies’ Night!”

“Ladies’ Night?” Eve scoffs. “Not really in the mood to get hit on by a bunch of guys stepping out on their wives.”

“It’s not like that, Eve,” Villanelle says, dryly. “It’s a gay club.”

Eve looks down and resumes cutting carrots. “I’m not really a club person.”

“Come on, it will be fun.”

“I said it’s not my thing, can you drop it already?”

“Wait.” Villanelle says slowly. “You only said no after I said it was a gay club.”

Eve focuses on the work in front of her. The only sound is of her knife hitting the cutting board. _Chop. Chop. Chop._

“Eve, are you homophobic?”

Eve scoffs and waves her tiny knife in the air. “How can you even ask me that?”

“You’re acting really weird about this gay club thing.”

“I just didn’t know you were into that kind of stuff, that’s all.”

“Not usually, but it could be fun,” Villanelle says. “To go together.”

“I don’t know if that’s the best idea.”

“Why?”

“You’re gonna make me say it?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Eve sighs. “I’m not…”

“What?”

“You know.”

“I don’t.”

“Like you.”

“Young?”

“No.”

“Blonde?”

“No!”

“A psychopath?”

“I’m not… I mean I don’t…” Eve throws up her hands. “I like men!”

“Okay,” Villanelle says. “And?”

“That kind of settles it.”

Villanelle stares blankly. “Are you trying to tell me that you’re straight?”

“Yeah, or, you know… whatever.”

“What do you call what we did last night, then?” Villanelle raises an eyebrow. “I’m not a man, Eve. And you seemed to _like_ it.”

“You know what I mean. I’m not a…”

“It’s not a dirty word, Eve.”

Eve swallows. She can be mature about this, can’t she? “I’m not a lesbian. Or gay, or whatever, it doesn’t matter. My point is, I don’t think I’d fit in at that club.”

“You know, they don’t make you take a badge at the door that says ‘I am gay’.”

“Don’t make fun,” Eve snaps. “I’m not comfortable with it. I’m not going.”

Villanelle shuts her laptop and puts it aside. “Come over here.”

“I’m cooking.”

“I’ll order us food,” Villanelle says. “I don’t even know what you’re doing with those carrots, anyway.”

Villanelle pats the couch next to her.

Eve stands still.

Villanelle does that stupid puppy-dog look where her lip sticks out and her eyes go all shiny and Eve can’t say no to that. She drops the knife on the cutting board, and goes to sit on the couch.

“You can go out if you want, and I’ll stay here and watch a movie,” Eve says. “It’s fine. Please, don’t make it a whole big thing. I don’t want to fight.”

“I don’t want to fight, either,” Villanelle says, turning towards Eve. “I want to help you.”

“Help me?”

“Some people have trouble figuring themselves out. It’s very normal, or so I have heard.”

“But you…” Eve pauses. “When did you decide to start calling yourself…”

“You can say it.”

“Gay.”

“Never?” Villanelle scrunches up her face. “I don’t really think about it that way. I want who I want.”

“But… I mean…” Eve laughs nervously. “Women, no?”

“Mostly,” Villanelle admits. “But I mostly like chocolate ice cream. I don’t go around calling myself a chocoholic.”

“That’s cool and all, but why do you want me to be part of that so bad, if you don’t even call yourself gay?”

Villanelle raises her eyebrows. “You know there’s a lot more than just ‘gay’ and ‘straight’, right?”

“I’m not an idiot,” Eve snaps. “I’m not from the fifties. I’ve heard the other words. ‘Bisexual’…”

“Okay, welcome to the seventies.”

“You don’t get it. They didn’t have _Glee_ when I was growing up. It wasn’t so casual, like it is now.”

“Eve, I’m Russian. I _get_ it.”

“It’s just… I don’t know.” Eve shakes her head. “Things are different now. I’m different now. And I don’t know… if I belong _there_.”

“It’s just a club. Besides, straight women go all the time.”

“I’d just feel like I’m trespassing or something.”

Villanelle nods thoughtfully. “And what do you think makes you feel that way?”

“God, are you seriously gonna play therapist with me?”

“I’ve seen enough psychologists. I can do a pretty good impression.”

“Fuck, if this is gonna be a real talk, I need something in me.”

“Finally. I was waiting for you to give in.”

They pause to order food. Eve dumps her sad chopped carrots in the garbage, while Villanelle sets up their feast of Mexican takeout.

“Did you always know? That you liked… or uh, wanted…”

“First crush I can remember is when I was six.” Villanelle scoops up a heap of salsa and pops the chip into her mouth. “And yeah…” Villanelle pauses dramatically. “She was a _she_. What about you?”

Eve takes a big bite of her burrito to stall.

“Don’t tell me I am the first,” Villanelle pleads. “I don’t believe you.”

“I guess, in retrospect, there were maybe… a couple of times, I felt. Or could imagine feeling… something.”

Villanelle is unimpressed by this lack of specificity. “Was I your first girly kiss?”

“No.”

Eve can’t help but feel pleased at the disappointment on Villanelle’s face at this response.

“There’s your answer.”

“But it was college, we were both drunk,” Eve says. “And it wasn’t like _that_ , not for either of us. We were just trying something. It doesn’t count.”

“Everything counts.”

“Why are you pushing this?” Eve snaps. “Do you want me to start chasing after other women?”

“I’m not going to take your bait. But I am going to point out that you made chasing women a hobby before you even met me.” Villanelle gives her a withering look.

“That’s different.”

“I just call it like I see it.”

Eve kicks Villanelle in the leg, soliciting only an evil guffaw in response. But then, when Villanelle notices Eve staring off at the floor, she quiets, and starts rubbing Eve’s knee gently. She waits patiently for Eve to continue.

“I was married for nine years. To a man. Together for eleven.” Eve marvels, thinking back on that chapter of her life, now decisively finished. “This is… new.”

“Good new?”

“Good new. But I don’t feel like I should have to completely reinvent myself.”

“I want you to feel good about _you_ , Eve. Every part of you.”

“It’s different for you. You’ve always… you have this clarity. Of desire, of purpose. It’s what has always drawn me to you.”

Villanelle’s lips are pursed softly and her eyes are full. “Go on…”

“I don’t see why this has to be about anything other than the way I feel about _you_.”

Suddenly Eve feels a wash of guilt. Why is she being so resistant? Why is she such a party pooper? If only she could get over it, but then… something inside her tells her the guilt she feels really isn’t about one night of going out or not.

They don’t talk for a while while they finish their dinner. The light outside the window starts to fade into the gentle glow of dusk. When there’s nothing left on the coffee table but some depleted salsa and tin foil, it’s finally time to face the dilemma.

“If you don’t want to go out because you don’t want to go out, I will stay here with you and rub your feet while we watch a movie I pick,” Villanelle says. “If you don’t want to go out because it happens to be a gay bar, then…”

“Don’t be shy,” Eve says. “Finish that threat.”

Villanelle gestures weakly. “Use your imagination.”

“You’re supposed to be the creative one.”

“I will… shoot you in the back.”

“Heard that one before.”

“I’m burrito bloated, give me a break.”

* * *

They go out.

The music is a lot, and despite the warmth, Eve feels a little naked in the sleeveless turtleneck Villanelle picked out for her.

Villanelle wants to go request some song from the DJ, and she squeezes Eve’s hand gently. “Will you be alright on your own for a minute?”

“I’m not a toddler,” Eve snaps. Then, softer. “Go ahead. I’ll be over there.”

Eve heads over to the bar to order a drink – a comfortably familiar routine.

She makes eye contact with the bartender, a woman about her age with short hair, shaved on the sides, wearing a loose button down and jeans. “Long Island Iced Tea, and make it strong,” Eve says, dropping a twenty dollar bill on the counter.

The bartender nods and begins mixing the drink. “You look tense,” she comments.

“It’s, uh…” Eve says, wishing she didn’t have to shout to be heard over the music. “Between you and me, it’s kind of my first time in a place like this.”

“Ah.” The bartender tips a few bottles of liquor over the glass, and nods knowingly. “It’s a lot to take in.”

“It’s just… This whole entire world,” Eve says, looking around, marveling at the sea of women, dancing, talking, flirting… kissing. “They didn’t have stuff like this when we were growing up, right?”

“They did, but it had to stay further off the beaten path,” the bartender says. “Things get a little better every day. Not all at once. Usually too slow to see. It’s only when you look back, you see how far we’ve come.”

“I don’t know if this is my place,” Eve says. “I was married to a man. Nine years.”

The bartender laughs. “You’re not the only one.”

“I was happy.”

“Your journey is yours alone. It doesn’t matter if it took you four years to get here, or forty. You’re here now. Enjoy it.” The bartender places the completed cocktail on a coaster and slides it over to Eve.

“It’s weird,” Eve says. “Normally when I’m out like this, there’s at least a few people trying to kill me.”

The bartender gives a confused look at that one, but Eve is spared from having to explain by an interjection that cuts through all the noise.

“Eve!” Across the room, Villanelle is shoving her way through the crowd to make her way towards the bar. “Get me an Aperol spritz!”

Eve opens her mouth, but the bartender waves her off. “Got it. And yours is on the house,” the bartender adds, pushing Eve’s twenty back at her. “To celebrate your first time.”

Eve doesn’t know what else to say, so she screams over the roaring subwoofers, “Thank you.”

“Nerves are understandable, but if I were here with _her_?” The bartender nods over to Villanelle, elbowing her way through the crowd as she draws closer. “I’d really enjoy every minute of it.”

Eve stammers. “Thanks, but I don’t know if… I mean, she, we… she’s my… well, she’s not _mine_ …”

By this point, Villanelle finally reaches Eve’s side, and cheerfully inserts herself into the conversation. “She’s with me.” She puts an arm around Eve and squeezes.

The bartender places Villanelle’s drink on the counter, and Villanelle throws down a bill, with a hefty tip included.

“You two are cute,” the bartender says. “And I _think_ I can promise no one is gonna try to kill you here. Have a nice night, kids.”

Villanelle laughs as they walk back into the depths of the bar. “She called you _kid_.”

“Don’t ruin this. I made a friend.”

“You’re having fun?”

“Getting there. By the bottom of this drink, I think I will.” Eve takes a hearty sip, and Villanelle grabs the bottom of Eve’s glass to tip it further. After recovering from near choking, Eve smacks her, but Villanelle’s too busy draining her own glass to notice.

The music fades, and the crowd mumbles disapproval, until a new song kicks in, with a heavy beat.

“They’re playing it!” Villanelle squeals. “Come on, Eve, let’s dance!”

Villanelle takes her by the hand, and they’re off. Pulled into the middle of the crowd, Eve doesn’t have to think about _is everyone looking at me?_ because it’s quite apparent that no one’s concerned about anything but enjoying themselves.

The whole crowd moves to the beat like one living, breathing organism. Eve doesn’t feel like she sticks out anymore. No one’s focusing on her or Villanelle in the slightest. They’re just two people in a crowd, having a good time.

In love.

Eve grabs Villanelle by the shoulder, stops her jumping and dancing. Villanelle looks down at her with concern, her eyes full of calculations: _Have you seen someone? Are the Twelve here? Where’s the nearest exit?_

But this evaporates into shock, then simple joy, as Eve grabs her by the chin and kisses her. Eve throws her arms around Villanelle, holding her tight. They hold one another, one couple of many, fading into the crowd. Utterly unremarkable.

And Eve finally feels like part of the club.

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer… please don’t take this story as any kind of official stance on Eve or Villanelle’s sexualities. I know it’s a very nuanced topic and people have differing opinions. In fact, I really appreciate that the show doesn’t get caught up on labels / discussions of homophobia, but I just thought this moment would be fun to explore Eve's adjustment in a gentle way in the realm of fanfic. Not that Eve would or should have trouble with it, but that she might not see herself fitting into the queer world the same way as Villanelle. Anyways, don’t take it too seriously, but I just want anyone reading this to know, there are so many ways to be queer and even if you’re still figuring out what labels (or lack thereof) you want to use for yourself, you should feel happy to be part of the LGBTQIA+ club :)
> 
> anyways you can find me on [tumblr](https://imunbreakabledude.tumblr.com/) or [twitter](https://twitter.com/not_breakable) xo hope you're having a great KE week


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